


A Natural Human Reaction

by BloodAndRosesBitch



Category: Two Guys a Girl and a Pizza Place
Genre: Berg and Pete are in love, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Implied/Referenced Abuse, M/M, One Shot, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, and there was only one bed, it roughly has a plot, they sleep in a motel six and have a fun neighbor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2020-12-31
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:28:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28462404
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodAndRosesBitch/pseuds/BloodAndRosesBitch
Summary: Berg and Pete, when they travel together, don't sleep in the same bed. Sometimes not even in the same room, if they can help it. This is because they like boundaries. Unfortunately, motels in the middle of busy cities during the holiday season aren't very respectful of boundaries, and so There Was Only One Bed.
Relationships: Michael Bergen/Pete Dunville
Kudos: 1





	A Natural Human Reaction

"Big spoon or little spoon?"

"We're not gonna spoon, Berg." Pete set down his suitcase and crossed his arms. "I _still_ don't believe they _actually_ had exactly one room left, with only one bed. I should go back there, give that woman a piece of my mind."

"If you're considering yelling at an old lady who works at a Motel 6 at three in the morning, I think you've hit a low. Even for you."

Pete nodded. "You know what? You're right."

"I am?"

"I shouldn't yell at her. I should yell at _you_ for dragging us down to Hartford at _three in the goddamned morning_ just because you can't manage to tell your mother that you don't want to go to dinner with her on New Year's Eve!" Pete had raised his voice more than was generally appropriate for a motel at three in the wee-hours, and so, helpfully, one of their new neighbors slammed a hand against one of the paper-thin walls and shouted at him to _"Shut the Hell up!"_ "Sorry!" Pete shouted back, then zeroed in on Berg again, continuing his rant in a whisper-yell. "What could possibly be so bad that you have to scope out restaurants in her own town before suggesting one?"

Berg averted his eyes. "You don't wanna know, Pete. I promise."

Pete folded his arms across his chest. "I do. I promise."

"Well..." He glanced up at Pete, and Pete nodded encouragingly. "It all started when I was three. I remember the day after my birthday, she sat me down with a gallon of ice cream and told me... this horrid thing about her. I was never supposed to tell anyone. But I trust you, Pete," Berg sighed. His voice was low and dangerous. Pete bit his lips. Berg leaned in close, down next to Pete's ear, so he could properly whisper the truth."My mom is a werewolf."

Pete blinked. "What the actual fuck is wrong with you?"

Berg grinned suddenly, and stood back up. "I'm a werewolf too."

Pete scoffed. "I'm sure. You're just a regular family of werewolves. Yeah. Alright. Where's Dracula? And the rest of the Addams family?"

"Dracula wasn't part of the Addams family, Pete. And he's my dad."

Pete rolled his eyes. "Berg, are you actually going to tell me what's up? Or are you just going to keep shitting through our conversations like you always do?"

Berg set his bag down and rubbed his hands together. "It's not important why, Pete. Just the way I am."

"I think if it wakes me up at one a.m. to go to Hartford, it's important."

Berg shook his head. "There's no reason. I'm exhausted. Let's go to bed."

"Our one bed?"

"Oh, come on. It's not like we haven't slept together before."

They both froze.

"That came out badly," Berg said, quickly. "I'll sleep in my clothes." He wanted to shrivel up from embarrassment. If he did, he wouldn't have to deal with this whole situation. If he did, he wouldn't have to think about Pete anymore, wouldn't have to force himself to stop remembering all those... well, he had _dreams_.

"So your mother can critique your freshly wrinkled clothes?" Pete asked it playfully, but he watched as Berg sighed, looking more tired than five seconds before.

"Now you're catching on."

"I'll take little spoon," Pete offered, glancing up at Berg warmly. Berg didn't see however. His back was already turned, dragging his overnight bag over to the far wall.

Berg nodded ever so slightly in agreement and rested his hands on the window in their room. It looked out onto a patch of grass and a chain link fence.

"I'm gonna brush my teeth," Pete announced, and Berg listened to the door close and the lock click. They always locked the bathroom door around each other, for some reason. Old high school habits, he supposed, and sat down on the edge of the bed to take his shoes and socks off. The bed was surprisingly soft (for $55 a night) and the comforter had a bright, island-y pattern on it. He lay down under the sheets and closed his eyes and listened to Pete flush the toilet and wash his hands. The door squeaked open.

Berg sat up and they stared at each other for a moment. Pete's frame was small, especially outlined by the doorway and cheap lights.

He threw his thumb toward the bathroom. "Are you gonna...?" The unspoken, innocent question hung in the air like a convict.

Berg quirked his mouth. "Nope," he said, finally.

Pete nodded and walked over to the bed. Berg rolled on his side, facing Pete. He climbed in. The bed could (generously) be considered a queen size, but it leaned much, much closer to a twin. Their bodies were pressed against one another, and Berg found his heart racing. Pete blushed. He could feel Berg's heart, but he was much more concerned about his mind. His mind, that seemed to appreciate this sudden excess of contact with Berg, maybe a little too much. The pleasure that was bubbling underneath his skin, in his chest, threatening to have a very inappropriate reaction to the touch of his best friend.

Berg shifted anxiously for a few seconds, then relaxed into Pete's back, settling against his spine.

"Can I put my arms around you?" Berg murmured. "Not like... I'm just a little squished."

"Um." Pete winced. Why did this whole thing feel so weird? _Because it is weird,_ his brain supplied, but it wasn't really. It was uncomfortable. But they were the ones making it weird. "Sure."

"Thanks," Berg whispered, then wrapped his arms around Pete. One weaseled its way under his waist and the other around his shoulders.

It felt good to hold Pete. Warm flesh and soft cloth close to him. Had it really been so long since he had had sex? Since he had held someone? Pete snuggled deeper into Berg's arms, and it was nice. They were both mature humans, and it was so fucking nice.

Berg felt something go hot and hard between his legs. He scooted away quickly, until he was basically half off the bed.

Pete flinched, and sat up and looked at him. "I'm sorry," he started, slowly. "Did I--"

Berg shook his head quickly. "Nope, I'm sorry, I just have an... a natural human reaction." He winced.

Pete raised an eyebrow. "Cut the crap. What happened?"

Berg sat up and flicked his eyes down.

Pete followed. His eyes widened. "Oh. Well..." He felt a rush of blood to his own penis as he imagined what Berg must have been thinking about, how he must have been feeling, their bodies pressed together, how that would have felt against his ass if Berg hadn't moved so quickly, what they--

"Pete? You okay? You like you got stabbed by a Canadian. Look, I'm really sorry, I don't think--"

"It's fine, Berg." Pete almost laughed. "I have a natural human reaction too." Berg's eyes, helpless, glanced at Pete's crotch. It was true.

"Well. What are we going to do about this?" Berg asked, his voice low and unintentionally seductive.

Pete swallowed. Berg bit his lip. Pete followed the subtle movement with his eyes, and felt the weight of it go straight to his dick. There would come a time when he would force himself to examine why in the world Berg biting his lip had stopped being something he picked up on to know when his friend was nervous and started being something that turned him on, but that time was not now.

They sat in silence for a moment, then Berg's eyes lit up.

"I have an idea."

After he was silent for a moment, Pete raised an eyebrow. "And?"

"You won't like it."

"Spit it out, buddy. Can't be that bad."

"Let's sleep together."

"We already are," Pete blurted, then paused. Berg watched as the realization drenced his face, changing the crease between his eyebrows. "Oh."

"If it's too weird, I under-"

"Let's do it," Pete said, letting out a breath.

Berg gave him a very Berg-ish grin. "Literally."

Pete, either out of desperation to get off or hysteria from sleep deprivation, laughed loudly. Their neighbor from before hit the wall again. Berg jumped. Pete laughed again, this time quieter. It petered out as Pete realized what he had just agreed to do. Berg took a deep breath and scooted closer to Pete. They stared at each other for a minute, knees brushing, wide-eyed with innocent wonder. Like they were meeting for the first time, like once more they were those loners in 8th grade.

"C-- can I touch your face?" Pete asked.

Berg nodded quickly and screwed his eyes shut. Pete reached up, his hand hovering above Berg's cheek for an agonizing split second before brushing it lightly. It was velvet. Berg shuddered at the touch.

"Okay?"

Berg nodded, small and shivering.

"What happened to Mr. Confident?"

"He can't be seen right now. He took all his goddamned vacation days and left me in the cold, went to fucking Argentina, and there's no extradition treaty there, so if you really want him back, I'll have to kidnap him, but if you could supply the chloroform, that'd be helpful, but--"

Pete took his friend's hand in his and kissed it gently. Berg bit his tongue.

"Berg, it's okay," Pete said, quietly. "We don't have to do this. We can take turns in the bathroom, or something."

Berg took an audibly deep breath and squeezed Pete's hand. Pete squeezed back, ever so slightly. A brush of his fingers had made Berg so fragile he shivered. What could something more do? Sure, a kiss on the hand hadn't done much at all, but that wasn't very romantic in the first place. Just something to get his attention.

"What do you want, Berg?"

"What do I..." Berg repeated, gazing blankly at Pete. Pete nodded. "What do _I_ want?" He laughed dryly. "What I want... I want some really terrible things."

"What are they?"

Berg's eyes widened. Pete leaned in, like he was about to get told a secret. Berg bunched up the sheets in a fist, and double-checked his memory. He had said 'terrible things' right? Not something sweeter?

"Do you want me to kiss you? Do you want to..." Pete swallowed, and Berg watched his Adam's apple bob. He was reminded rudely of his erection. "Make love? Or hold hands? Or just sit?" Berg gasped, and shut his eyes. Pete was too much for him, without even knowing it.

Berg's guts twisted into creative shapes as he thought. What did he want? What was he allowed to want? There was a part of him that wanted to throw this away. Like he had with most romantic relationships. Tell Pete he was into something Pete would never go for. It was too much for his tiny heart, he thought, to have someone as perfectly sweet as Pete offering to give him what he wanted. He wanted a life with Pete. That was all. It didn't have to be sex, though he'd enjoy that very much. It didn't even have to be touching. Pete just had to be there. He wanted to wake up with the certainty that Pete would be somewhere within the same home. That if he listened hard enough, he could hear Pete brewing coffee or going on and on about whatever girl was currently 'The One.'

Pete sat patiently, looking at him with small, warm eyes and a delicate smile. Looking at him like he was worth every second of this 3 a.m. hour. Berg's heart melted in his chest.

"I want..." Berg took a deep breath and look back at Pete, making fearless eye contact with him. "I want you. I want to have sex with you." His mouth was dry and his pulse pounded against his veins as he watched Pete. Alert for any signs of discomfort or unhappiness of fear.

Pete smiled and Berg let out a small breath he was perfectly aware he'd been holding.

"Okay. Alright."

"Really? Because if you don't want to, or if you're not--"

"I'm sure," Pete said, softly. "Are you?"

Berg nodded. Yeah. Have been, I think, for a long time."

They sat in silence, staring at each other. Searching each other for hints of teasing, for their normal thing that they do with each other, and not finding any. Thoughts were running through both their minds as fast as their hearts were beating, somehow in sync in all their anxiety. Berg felt with magnetic force every breath breath Pete drew, and Pete felt every minute shifting of Berg's body.

Berg leaned in close to Pete. "Do we-- I mean, can I..." he gestured to Pete's lips and Pete nodded.

Berg leaned in closer and closer, painstakingly, until their lips met.

The kiss was strange. Not bad, definitely not bad, but utterly unlike anything Berg had ever felt before. It wasn't exactly a secret that he had kissed a lot of women, but none of these women had been Pete. It was intoxicating, like really good wine or really bad beer. Pete's lips were small under Berg's, and they were chapped. He could taste the metallic blood, the old beer, the take-out smoked salmon they had gotten last night. This close up, Pete smelled like pizza dough and coffee and that new cologne. Pete moaned softly as Berg pressed their mouths closer together, and slid his hands around Berg's waist.

Pete shifted his hips to press their dicks together.

"Ah, Pete," Berg growled, his voice desperate and husky. He pulled away, suddenly, leaving Pete with a whine. "Are you absolutely sure, Pete? I mean, after this we can't go back. It'll never be the same, and what if that's not what we want?" He was talking faster by the second.

Pete cupped his cheek in his hand. "Dummy. We talked. I like you. I like kissing you."

Berg giggled. His heart raced, his head pounded, but when he looked at Pete, and Pete looked back at him, the world seemed to slow down. They held each other in their eyes for a split second, and then Pete pulled Berg closer again and ran his hands through Berg's soft soft soft hair.

"Come on," Pete whispered, smiling gently. "I thought you'd be the certain one."

Berg laughed a little, then shook his head. "Maybe if you were a random woman."

Pete laughed a little along with him, then pulled him into a kiss. Berg put his arms on either side of Pete's body, pining him down. He lay down on his back, looking up at Berg with a big grin on his face. He slid his hands from Berg's head to his collarbone, and peeled off his loose button-down shirt. Berg kissed his ferociously, on the lips, face, neck, stripping his long-sleeve shirt off and peppering his torso with kisses. Sneaking a few on the lower part of his abdominal muscle to make Pete moaned helplessly.

Pete retaliated via taking off Berg's undershirt and pulling at his pants, undoing the fly with surprising ease. Berg almost laughed.

"How many times have you taken off a guy's fly underneath him?"

Pete rolled his eyes. "A few. Maybe." He peeled off Berg's pants and squeezed his ass.

Berg opened his mouth to shoot off a witty retort, but all that he could manage was an airy moan.

He kissed Pete on the mouth to prevent future interruptions, opened his lips and flicked his tongue into Pete's mouth. Pete kissed him back, his breathing hard and his cock even harder. He shoved his hands into Berg's underwear and Berg gasped as he started to run his fingers along Berg's length, pumping him tenderly. Berg pulled away from their kiss to moan Pete's name, fighting with himself to keep his voice low so that neighbor didn't come over to their room and shut them up with a fist.

"You like that, Berg?" Pete asked, pulling off Berg's underwear.

Berg whined.

Pete reached up with his free hand and pressed his fingers into Berg's back, hard. Berg gasped and moaned, until there wasn't really a break in between the noises he was making, it was just one long, needy moan of Pete's name pressed up against the dark of their room, up against Pete's loving cheek as Berg lost his last breath kissing him.

"Pete," Berg said, his chest heaving. _"Oh my God, Pete,"_ he said again, this time just a slur of the words. Pete stroked his dick faster, and Berg moaned, no longer fully in control of how loud he was being. In the background, the neighbor hit the wall again, but neither of them seemed to take any notice. Pete was kissing up and down Berg's arms and Berg's hips were rolling and bucking, pushing himself into Pete's hand.

There was a white-hot moment of no control, just pleasure coursing recklessly through Berg's veins, and then he threw his hands back and cummed into Pete's   
hand.

His cheeks were rose and his chest was heaving as he collapsed onto Pete.

"You're good at that," Berg murmured into Pete's ear.

Pete smiled and pressed a kiss into Berg's cheek. "Thanks," he murmured back, and wrapped his arms around Berg's bare body.

"Can't rest yet," Berg said, and kissed Pete deeply, savoring the taste of him for a moment before breaking away and crawling down to Pete's pants. "You had a natural human reaction too."

Pete giggled and Berg took off his friend's-- his _lover's_ pants. He pulled his underwear down until he could see Pete's dick, half-erect and leaking precum. He started at the tip, petting Pete's penis softly in little strokes. Pete gasped sharply, and let out a low, small moan.

"Is that what you want?" Berg asked, and Pete nodded. Berg went down a little harder, using his whole hand and enjoying the feeling of Pete growing hard in his   
palms.

Pete trembled at his touch. He reached down and put his hands in Berg's hair, pulling at it a little bit every time Berg went faster.

Pete moaned loudly, and the neighbor slammed his hand against the wall again, though this time it was rather half-hearted. Berg jerked Pete off faster and faster, and Pete moaned louder, gasping for Berg, pulling at his hair.

Berg licked his lips, and somehow through the lusty haze in the room, Pete caught sight of the movement.

"Berg," he whined, and Berg was at attention.

"Yeah?"

"Do that again."

"What? This?" He asked, pumping Pete's penis.

Pete let out a moan but shook his head. "No, the thing with your-" Berg went down hard and Pete shouted. "Ah-- Lips!"

"Oh," Berg said, and licked his lips.

Pete nodded.

Berg licked his lips again and put his mouth around Pete's dick, licked it, and then pulled away, getting a pull at his hair from Pete. "Like that?" His voice was husky and smooth, surprisingly in control.

Pete moaned something affirmative.

Berg put his mouth back on Pete's cock and ran his teeth along it. Pete's hips bucked, shoving him further into Berg's open mouth. Berg easily pinned Pete's thighs down with his hands, keeping him in one place while he continued to suck him off. Pete made noise and most of that noise was Berg's name, something about how they should've down this a long long time ago. Berg, silently, agreed.

Berg swirled his tongue around Pete's dick one more time, and then the ecstasy was too much for Pete, the heat and desire and pleasure building up in his bones, and he cummed into Berg's mouth. Berg crawled up so Pete could see him, swallowed it as Pete watched, bleary-eyed and only half present, then licked his lips. Pete chuckled.

"Are you trying to make me hard again?"

"Maybe."

"Sleep time?"

Berg nodded, yawned, and lay down next to Pete. Pete sat up slowly, shaking off the post-climax fog, and pulled the sheets up so they wouldn't get cold in the night. Then he wrapped his arms around Berg and Berg put his head on Pete's chest, and Pete wrapped his legs around Berg and Berg pressed his body close to Pete. Berg felt Pete's heart slow to a steady rythmn and his breathing even out, and then he let himself fall asleep.

It was nice.

* * *

Berg was up before Pete. He didn't sleep much even on good days, and though last night had been a very good night, hotels were problematic. He watched Pete breathe, and he was so calm and perfect that Berg didn't dare move. His eyelashes fluttered every few moments, and Berg had never noticed how pretty Pete was. He would've said handsome to Pete's face, but the truth was he was pretty. His body seemed to accent itself perfectly, with all the curves and edges of his features, his sharp collarbones and constant gentle smile on his pretty pink lips. His soft, coffee brown hair.

Berg watched as Pete woke up, slowly. Not like Berg did, Berg woke with a start most days, with his eyes jumping open and a quick survey to make sure he was still where he left himself when he went to bed. But Pete's breathing sped up by a minute amount, and then his hands clenched around Berg's waist, and then finally, he   
yawned and opened his eyes.

"Mmmhey Berg," he murmured, pressing a lazy kiss to his friend's chest.

Berg smiled softly. "Hey Pete."

"What time is it?"

Berg glanced up at the analog clock next to the bathroom door. "Just after eight. We have a little time to fool around before finding a place for dinner."

"By fool around, I really hope you mean," Pete interrupted himself by kissing Berg's shoulder. "Breakfast."

Berg shrugged, grinning. "If that's what you feel like."

"I've never seen you eat breakfast."

"I do."

"We've lived together for years. Never seen it."

"Have you ever seen my entire naked body before last night?"

"I think that's a little different than eating breakfast."

"You'd be surprised."

Pete rolled his eyes, but smiled. Berg kissed the corner of his mouth. Pete rolled out of bed, and Berg groaned.

"Are you implying that I have to get out of bed to go to breakfast?"

Pete laughed. "I mean, maybe not when we're back home."

Berg's eyes lit up. "I'm coming," he said, getting out of bed on the other side. Pete's eyes blazed trails across Berg's bare form, and he blushed.

"It's weird, but you're really hot."

Berg smiled at him as he pulled on his underwear. "Did you think the girls were just into my charming personality?

"I'm not saying your personality is charming."

"You're the one who's fucking me."

"Oh, we're fucking now? That wasn't just a one time thing?"

"Well, you _are_ handsome. You know me. Can't resist."

When they were dressed, Berg grabbed Pete's hand and pulled him out the door.

"I saw a Waffle House up the street, let's go there," Pete suggested. "But I'm driving. You nearly nicked Sharon's car when you were parking."

Berg scoffed. "Nearly, you say."

It was a short car ride, and a long breakfast. They ate waffles, naturally, with lots of syrup. Berg had strawberries and whipped cream on his. The day was crisp   
and frozen, and the wind bit through their coats. When they held each other, though, neither seemed to mind.

Berg took a huge forkful of waffle, and Pete watched him, entranced half by the new light in which he was allowed to see his best friend/lover and half by the sheer   
amount of waffle he was shoving down his esophagus.

"Whmapht?"

Pete narrowed his eyes. "What?"

Berg swallowed. "What is it?"

"Just... you."

Berg blushed faintly and took another huge bite of waffle.

"Can I ask you a question?" Berg nodded, so Pete kept going. "I... remember you saying good things about your mom. What changed? If you would tell me what was   
wrong... I don't know. Last time I tried to help you it didn't go like I thought it would. But I want to know, even if I can't help."

Berg nodded again, swallowed, and open his mouth. "Yeah, buddy, I'm not sure about that."

"I can handle it, Berg. You don't have to worry."

Berg bit his lip and tried to smile. "It's not-- Not you I'm worried about. You're plenny strong."

Pete blinked. "You?"

"Me."

Pete extended his hand across the table and Berg grabbed it in an instant death grip. "You don't have to, then."

Berg shook his head and blinked harshly. "Don't I? I've never said anything to anyone about it before. A joke to my dad. That's all I've said."

Pete nodded. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." Berg ran his thumb over Pete's wrist, feeling the pulse to confirm to himself that this man, this wonderful man, was really alive. "The thing is, nothing's changed. I love her and I hate her. There is so much of both in my body."

"Is that why you can't refuse?"

He shook his head again. "I'm scared of her, Pete. To death. She can be so... so mean, you know? And not like you, you can be mean but it's fun, it's me and you teasing each other. Pushing my buttons, but you never really hurt me. You hate to hurt me. I remember my goldfish, how you looked when I walked into the pizza place. You would set the world on fire to help me heal. But she... she would set the world on fire if she thought it would make me settle down. You know how I am. Wild, unpredictable, insatiable. But she doesn't get that I'm not out of control, and she thinks she needs to control me so I won't hurt myself, and she's willing to do anything to control me. Even hurt me. Like I'm some kind of... some piece of machinery you have to hit to get working again. She hits the tv too." Berg was digging his nails into his palms now, but the tears were running anyway. "She doesn't understand, and I think at this point she's stopped trying," he got out, followed by a heavy, watery sob.

Pete squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back.

"I can call and tell her you got sick or something."

Berg shook his head. "I'll be fine..."

"But?"

"As long as we don't say anything about us, and don't agree to see her again soon."

Pete nodded dutifully.

"Thank you, Pete," Berg said quietly, the words only for him.

Pete smiled. "It's like you said. I would set the world on fire to help you heal."

"Happy New Year's Eve."

"Here's to a year of us, Berg. Me and you."

Berg smiled broadly, and Pete smiled back at him, and then they got up to go pay for their waffles.

**Author's Note:**

> I didn't think that writing gay porn while listening to Orville Peck for the first time would change me as a person, but here we are.
> 
> Happy New Years, everyone, and here's to getting what you want in 2021!
> 
> This was inspired by a stay I had at a hotel (because my house was having water issues, not for pleasure) in which I was waiting in the lobby behind a guy who, no joke, was complaining about having to sleep in the same bed as his male travel-buddy and trying to get a room with two beds.


End file.
